


It's Always Sunny in Canaveral

by possessedradios



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: (I ... guess?), Everyone has a nice day and Jacobi has a date later, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I listened to Theme for the DSSPPM on loop while writing this. It's so elevator-y.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possessedradios/pseuds/possessedradios
Summary: “Don’t you have work to do?” Maxwell, Rachel and Pryce ask. Jacobi, Kepler and Cutter don’t, no. Not today.Plus, nosy A.I.s, the thing with the three-date-rule, thermos bottle chai latte, and several board games.





	It's Always Sunny in Canaveral

**Author's Note:**

> Yooo, I’ve been wanting to read a nice short fic about a slow, uneventful day at Goddard’s for a while now, and alas, I had to write it myself. 
> 
> (I’ve never seen It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia but the title is so neat?)

“Jacobi,” Maxwell says. “You will have to leave my lab at some point.”

“Nah.”

“You can’t just hide in here for the rest of the day.”

“Hah, watch me. You should know me better by now.”

She sighs and pushes her chair back to get a better look at Jacobi. “This,” she says, “is ridiculous.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well. ‘m fine with that.” 

Maxwell sighs. 

_Mister Jacobi, no offense, but you’re keeping Doctor Maxwell from some really important work here._

“Hey, no one asked you, Siri!” 

_Excuse me!?_

Jacobi shrugs, grinning. He quickly stops when he feels Maxwell glaring at him. “... Yeah, okay okay, sorry. Hestia.”

“I’ll personally throw you out if you do this again, Daniel.” 

“Gee, okay! I said I’m sorry.” Jacobi sighs and rests his head on top of his arms on the table. “Ugh. Why’s everything so boring?” 

_Don't you have work to do, Mister Jacobi?_

He glares up at the speakers. “I’m sure the rest of the ballistics guys are good, thanks.”

_I’m just saying, Goddard work policy clearly states-_

“God, get off my case!” 

_Mister Jacobi, your work moral is-_

“Maxweeell. Tell your A.I. to leave me alone.” 

There’s nothing but the sound of her furious typing for a few seconds, and then the already expected answer: “Nope! She can do whatever she wants.” Jacobi doesn't even know why he’s trying. 

Minutes pass; Maxwell typing away on some new piece of code for whatever, Hestia quiet again, and Jacobi growing more and more bored. 

“You wanna get McDonald's?” he eventually tries. 

Maxwell exhales slowly. “It’s 2 in the afternoon. I got back from lunch one hour ago.” 

“... Burger King?” 

“No, Jacobi.” 

“Aw, come _on_ , Alana!” 

Maxwell looks at him, glancing over the screen, rolling her eyes. “Daniel, I’m sorry, but what are you even doing here? Hestia is right, I’m sure you have work of your own you could be attending to.”

He groans and lets his head sink onto his arms again. 

_Is it because of your date, Mister Jacobi?_

“Wait, what?” Maxwell rolls back on her chair again, suddenly sounding way more interested. 

“Hey! The hell, Hestia?!”

 _Oh, I’m sorry, Mister Jacobi,_ she says, not sounding sorry at all, _If you have your Outlook calendar open for everyone to access, someone will-_

“That’s still none of your business!” he complains. Then he looks over at Maxwell. “Your A.I. is _nosy_.” 

“Aw, no, she’s… Okay, yes, maybe she is. But so am I - you’ve got a date?”

Jacobi spends a few seconds contemplating whether this would actually be the appropriate time to leave her lab and go back to work, but he decides against it. He would have told her anyway. Tomorrow. He glares up at the speakers again. 

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Maxwell asks, code momentarily forgotten. 

“Duh, you know I’ve been seeing him. Klein.”

“Ohhh, _again_? Daniel Jacobi, is it something…” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “... serious?” 

He makes a face. “Come on.” 

“What, this will be your … third date?”

“So what!” 

“Do you _like_ him? Do you _like-like_ him?” Her eyes are bright, grin big on her face. 

_Is- Is that three-date-rule still a thing?_

After a second of silence, Maxwell bursts out laughing, and Jacobi chokes on his breath. 

“Jesus, Hestia! Maxwell, what kind of things do you teach- _God!_ ”

Maxwell’s laughter is breathless, now. “I- I’m sorry Jacobi, but you can't tell me that’s _not_ the reason you're hiding here. Are you afraid you might run into him somewhere inside the building?” 

“Gah! Shut up, it’s-” 

_Is it really something serious?_

“Hestia, that's none of your- He’s planning to apply for the next Hermes’ mission anyway, so- I … should _really_ get back to work.”

“Oh no you won’t!” Maxwell stands, still grinning at him. “We’re gonna go get Starbucks and discuss your date in detail. Not - too much detail, though, because ew.”

“But- Your work-” 

“-can totally wait, I’m not actually doing anything for Goddard right now; I’m bored myself.”

“Wha-” 

_Doctor Maxwell!_

“Oh, hush, Hestia. Ping my phone if someone important’s looking for me. C’mon, Daniel, let’s go.”

Jacobi groans again and suddenly wishes he had chosen to hide somewhere else, but at least the afternoon won't he _boring_ anymore. He reluctantly follows her out of the lab. 

### 

“Miss Young, I’ve never seen you wearing glasses. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t look up from her computer, but she lifts one hand to adjust said glasses on her nose. They make her look different, Kepler thinks. Friendlier, in a way. Deceitfully so - she sounds just as annoyed as she always does, when she eventually speaks. “Well, guess what, Major Kepler. There's a lot of things you don't know about me. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a way to occupy myself. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Why don't you go bug Mr. Jacobi, then? I’m sure he’ll be waaay more happy to see you.“

“Mm. Couldn't find him down at ballistics. Since when do you wear glasses?”

“I’ve lost one of my contacts. Can you please-”

“I could help you look for it?”

Now she looks at him, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “... Major Kepler, are you _bored_? Don’t you have _work_ to do?”

“Don’t I have work to do,” he repeats slowly, and Young sighs, rolling her eyes. “No,” Kepler then says, drawing the word out. “I don’t think I have. I think you’ll find that today is, in fact, my day off.”

There’s nothing for a few seconds. Young gapes at him, seemingly speechless. Kepler thinks that’s nice, and good to know - how often did he wish for a way to shut her up. “Are- _Are you serious?!_ ”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you even here? That’s just _sad_ , don’t you have- God, I don’t know, hobbies? I’d sure know what to do if I could go home now!”

“Really?” Kepler smirks at her - she glares at him - half-sitting down on the edge of her desk - she glares harder. “What _would_ you do, Miss Young?”

“Major Kepler, as I’ve _just_ insinuated, _I_ have actual work to do. And, oh, I’m sorry, I forgot - even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t feel like sharing bits and pieces of my private life with you. It’s called that for a reason.”

“Sooo - you’re busy?”

“Incredibl-”

She falls silent quickly as Kepler stands and walks around her desk, stopping right next to her.

“Mm. I see,” he says.

She compresses her lips and says, through gritted teeth, “I’m waiting for some reports.”

“Suuure you are.” Kepler’s grin grows a little wider. “I don’t think playing online chess ... is considered … ‘being busy’ by Goddard’s-”

“Get out of my face, Major, at least I’m not hanging around here on my day off! Seriously, what the hell are you even doing here?”

Kepler leans against her desk, watching her make her next move, frowning. “That was bold, Miss Young.”

She groans.

“Aaand, while it’s none of your business, I’m here to ask Doctor Maxwell and Mister Jacobi whether they want to join me for dinner. Their kitchens are a mess with no cooking utensils.”

“Things I never wanted to know, part 371,” she mutters, staring at the virtual chess board. “Oh, and - you’ll have no such luck, I’m afraid. Mister Jacobi,” she shoots him a quick glance, smirk on her face, “has a date.”

The comment about Young’s latest chess move gets stuck somewhere inside his throat. “He has a what now?”

Young turns her chair towards him, smiling. “M-hmm. Officer Klein is the lucky one.”

“How do _you_ even _know_ -”

“His Outlook calendar.”

“I … see. Alright. I suppose I’ll just … ask Doctor Maxwell then.”

“Of course, do that.” She’s still smiling at him, looking very pleased with herself and the whole world.

“... Anyway.” Kepler turns toward her screen again. “Care for a game of real chess?”

“With _you_?” She laughs and turns back to her computer just in time to see the _C H E C K M A T E_ flash across the screen.

“... So?”

She takes a deep breath and quickly scans her emails - Kepler sees that there are no new ones. Then she sighs, exasperated. “Fine. Go organize a board - and we’ll never talk of this to anyone else.”

“Got you.”

### 

“Knock knock! How’s my favorite top secret Goddard employee doing?” He pushes the door open all the way, leaning casually against the door frame. 

Pryce looks up - or, well, one of her eyes turns towards him with an almost inaudible whirring sound. “Marcus? What are you doing here?”

“Aw, no need for that blasé attitude, hm? I knooow you like seeing me, Miranda.”

“What I’d like,” she says, eye focussing on the screen in front of her again, “is for you to tell me what you need so I can go back to work again. The new sensus unit is-”

“-doing alright, as you stated in your email an hour ago,” Cutter reminds her, smiling brightly. “Come on, Miranda, you know how it goes - all work and no play…”

She sighs and pushes her chair back, swirls around and looks at him properly. “Alright. Let’s try this again: Hello, Marcus. What can I do for you?”

“Miraaanda, how nice to see you too! Ah, well, you know. I was sitting in my office, pondering over some reports, and I thought to myself-”

“Marcus.” 

“... I was bored.”

Pryce stares at him. “Ex...cuse me?”

“Do you want to go to the park? I have my travel Backgammon set with me!”

“I- Marcus, you-” Her work is momentarily forgotten, and she’s still staring at him in genuine confusion.

“Yes? No? Maaaybe?”

“Marcus, don’t you have _work_ to do?”

He taps his index finger against his lips, humming thoughtfully. “Mhmmm. You know, the weird thing is - I don’t!”

“You … don’t?”

“No! Lovely, slow day, hmm? Sunny out, too. Let’s go to the park - oh, should I organize a thermos bottle with a nice chai? What do you say?”

“I…” She exhales, shoots a quick look at her computer, then looks at him, still smiling at her, motivated as always. “Oh, what the hell. Alright.”

Cutter’s smile grows even wider - and it’s always equal parts surprising and fascinating, the way his smile is so _genuine_ whenever he’s talking to her. She finds herself smiling back despite herself.

*

“... and Doug started a genuine revolution about their last tube of toothpaste. I’m so glad I decided to listen to his recordings.” Cutter chuckles and rolls the dice. “Mmhm, lady luck is not on my side today.” He considers the board for a moment before moving his checkers.

Pryce observes his move, shaking her head. “Really, Marcus, where did you even _find_ these people?” She takes the dice from him, and he grins at her.

“Jail!”

“... Come again? I hope that’s some sort of … figure of speech I don’t get?”

“No! I took him right out of jail!” Cutter laughs as she raises her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, Miranda, didn’t you say you trust my judgement completely?”

“Yeees, but that was _before_ I knew you’d go around recruiting literal inmates.”

“Oh, he’s doing a great job, really! What could possibly go wrong, right?”

“I wish you’d stop saying that.” She sighs. “What about 2-14? How is it doing?”

“Mhmmm.” He smiles. “Of course - Hera.”

Pryce rolls her eyes. “Marcus.”

“I know, I know! _2-14_. Weeell. So far, everything seems to be going alright. Some minor incidents, a few less-than-ideal performances, but nothing too concerning.”

“Is that so. Hmph. We’ll see how it fares.”

“Mmmhm, that we will. That … we will.” He leans back on the bench, taking a deep breath. “Isn’t this nice? Aren’t you glad I dragged you out of your office? And, oh! It’s still your turn, Miranda.”

She ignores his question and rolls the dice. One of her eyes turns towards him while she moves her checkers. “Say, while we’re playing silly games - has the crew found Funzo yet?”

“Oh! Oh, no, they’ve not. I’m sure I would have heard if they had.” He laughs. “Mhmm. Funzo. Memories … Maybe we could-”

“No. Absolutely not. You know what happened last time. I almost ended our partnership.”

“Friendship,” he says, smiling, she sighs, and then he shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know. _I_ think Funzo was fun. Really!”

“Yes, Marcus. That’s indication enough of how much pain it is.”

He laughs and takes the dice off the board. “Oh, Miranda. I’m so glad I’m spending this afternoon with you.”

She sighs again, takes the thermos bottle and pours herself a chai. “Likewise,” she says, almost inaudibly, before taking a sip.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m @possessed-radios on tumblr, and my podcast sideblog is @shortwaveattentionspan; come talk to me about [Cutter's 2200 Dollar Travel Backgammon Set](http://www.neimanmarcus.com/en-de/AERIN-Cream-Shagreen-Backgammon-Set/prod185090068/p.prod?ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&utm_medium=CSE&utm_source=NMCS__GooglePLA&utm_campaign=Aerin). (Still: Thank you for this, @thimbleoflight; he definitely owns this.)


End file.
